Lincoln County Series 1-3

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Lincoln County Series 1-3 Page 15

by Sarah Jae Foster


  “Cameron, where are you?” Fear gnawed at his middle that she could be out in the wicked weather. But something stronger than that fear overruled his dangling thoughts. Somehow, he knew she was safe. Where? He did not know. But he was powerless in himself and slowly closed the door. After stirring up a fresh blaze in the fireplace, he sought God and pleaded for protection over his wife, baby and the entire town of Lincoln County.

  Chapter Nine

  In town, Jake fought through the blizzard to carry a five-year-old to Lacey’s. He kicked at the door until Lacey opened it. “What’s going on?”

  “I don’t know. The little guy just fell down stone cold in the mercantile and his mother has a passel of kids with her. I told her I would take him to Doc’s. He isn’t there and I don’t know what else to do with him. It’s a mess out there. I have to figure out how to get her and her children home.”

  “Bring him up.”

  He brought the feverish boy to one of the hotel’s rooms.

  “The boy belongs to Kate Reynolds—his name’s Tyler. If you’ll take care of him, I’ll tell his mother where he is and bring them all here.”

  Lacey agreed and Jake returned downstairs. Through the window in the restaurant, Jake stared in awe at the fierce storm brewing before his eyes. As if they didn’t have enough to deal with.

  On his own accord, he gathered all the lanterns he could find from the hotel and placed them along the boardwalks in case someone should be lost while looking for town.

  Upon his return with the rest of the Reynolds family, Jake was pleased to know that Doc Colvin was tending to Tyler. The man looked beyond haggard, and when he could not go on a moment longer, Lacey shuffled him off to bed. It was good they had two available docs during the epidemic.

  Jake went into the restaurant, poured himself a cup of strong coffee and sat alone with unwanted thoughts. He also wondered if any good deeds would atone for what he’d done to Cameron. He scratched at his beard and swore at himself. He’d done an awful thing, an unforgiveable, cruel act. She would never speak to him again and she’d be wise not to. There was no way he could trust himself in her presence. Blast it all! He’d never expected to see her sitting so pretty in the moonlight, all by her lonesome of all things. He knew his relationship with Andrew was surely done for, as sure as he was sitting there, thinking of the man’s wife.

  Resigned, he tossed his coffee back and headed to the attic. He pulled old cots and gathered blankets from every empty room in the hotel. The cots were arranged into rows so the adults could perform sponge baths on the children. Out of Kate’s six youngins all but two had fallen ill with sore throat, fever and rash. She did not cease at nursing each and every one and Jake admired her loving resolve.

  “Mrs. Reynolds?” He assessed the older woman. She was weary as all could get. “How about you get some sleep now?”

  Kate looked at him anxiously, as if seeking assurance that, if she slept, her children would be alive when she woke.

  “You need sleep same as me.”

  He didn’t know how to put it other than bluntly. “Let someone else take over. Your children will need you later if…” He did not finish his thought. He did not need to. After a few moments of looking distressed over the decision, as if it were the hardest one she’d ever had to make, Kate unwillingly heeded out of necessity.

  At her departure he cursed out loud. Life was cruel. These children did not deserve this. Maybe it wasn’t life that was cruel, but God himself? Keeping everyone in line, as He looking down, and when displeased, He punished! Well, there were lots more people out in this world who needed punishing, needed to come face to face with His burning hand! Take himself for instance. Without hesitation, he would give his no-good life for one of Kate’s children.

  Jake paced between rooms, angry at everything unfair. Fatigue caught up to him and he realized he’d been awake over twenty hours. He sat on the end of Tyler’s bed. Feeling the boy’s pulse, he frowned. It was too weak. He woke Doc Colvin. Faithfully, the doctor returned to his patient. Silvery, thin hair stood sporadically upon his head, his eyes swollen in protest of being open, no doubt. After checking the wheezing child, he shook his head sadly.

  Jake looked at Lacey who stood in the doorway, pale as a ghost.

  “Get his mother.”

  He would not live.

  Kate held her son’s face in her hands and kissed his cracked lips as she whispered pathetically, words of love and adoration. It was too much for Jake. He could not understand the death of a child. No loving God would do this. Andrew was wrong to believe, he was misled—and now, so was Cameron, he was sure of it.

  *** *** ***

  The next day Cameron helped Penny sit up in bed and grinned at Mary’s attempt to lighten her daughter’s spirit. She had broken through the worst. The girl grimaced when she saw her peeling fingers and toes, a sign of the departing illness.

  “May I have some water?” she asked.

  Mary sprang into action. “Anything you want.”

  Satisfied, Cameron readied to go, her only desire now that Penny had pulled through was to see her husband. Although the storm had passed and the snow lay calm as could be on the frozen ground, she enlisted a stable boy’s assistance to bring her home.

  Once on the property, she cried with relief when she saw smoke from the chimney. He was home.

  “Andrew!”

  He flung open the door and made a quick evaluation of her health before taking her into his arms. She smiled against his smooth neck as he instinctively laced his fingers through her mass of hair. She heard him inhale deeply before releasing her.

  “I was readying to come and find you. Where did you run off to?” His bright eyes were not yet smoothed of concern.

  “Mary Keiser needed me. Penny fell sick.” At seeing his look she assured him, “She’s fine, Andrew.”

  “And you?”

  “Only tired, nothing sleep cannot fix.”

  After much rest, Andrew prepared a light soup and ladled it into bowls for each of them.

  “Dr. Grover said it must have spread throughout the school.” He had Cameron bundled up cocoon-like in a chair beside the fireplace.

  “How so?”

  “As you know by now it’s highly contagious. Someone needs only sneeze, or share a pencil. It’s a terrible tragedy.”

  “I’m so relieved that Penny made it through. I don’t know what Mary would have done to lose her. With her being a widow, I could only imagine the thought.”

  Andrew pulled up his own chair, nestling it right in front of her. He set her soup in front of him on a serving tray.

  “Don’t even think about feeding me!” she declared.

  He retorted which a chuckle, “I don’t intend to. But it’s hot. Allow it to cool a few moments.”

  He blew on his spoon of soup and swallowed it. “I need to head to town. I have some things to check into with Dr. Grover.”

  He seemed to know what she was going to say before she said it.

  “And, no. You may not come,” he said levelly.

  “But I’ve already been exposed, you said so yourself that it affects the youngest.” She had a good argument. “Please. It’s dreadful waiting here, alone, not knowing...”

  He held up his hand in surrender, himself unwilling to be apart from her again, so soon. “Very well. You win.”

  Chapter Ten

  Three days had passed since Andrew caved in to Cameron’s plea to accompany him to town and it weighed on him in heavy regret. He wept quietly as he wiped Cameron’s sweat laden brow. The merciless fever had latched itself to her. She was barely conscious, the slight moans that escaped her lips twisted his stomach. She was in pain and he could do nothing about it. Andrew forced fluids down her throat and did his best to keep her dry, cracking lips moist. He blamed himself. He should have never taken her with him.

  “Darn her protests!” he said in frustration, throwing the damp rag to the floor. He stared hard at his wife’s bleak, still face. Dark
circles under her eyes gave her a bruised appearance, and her breathing...it did not sound right. He stalked around the room wishing there was more he could do. There was no reason to get the doctor in the wretched weather. Dr. Grover would only do what he’d been doing all along, bathing, feeding, and the worst...waiting.

  Throughout the long night and in between nodding off and checking on Cameron’s status, he finally became rested and alert. The gray dawn slowly began to creep through the window, reminding him it was a new day. Stretching, he rose and went to the kitchen and rationed out some food for breakfast. He scooped a ceramic cup throughout the bucket of water and filled it half full, bringing it to his wife’s lips.

  “I’m going to give you a drink now.” He tilted back her head and poured a slight stream of water into her mouth.

  She swallowed.

  With hope, he placed a hand to her cheek. She was no longer burning up. He closed his eyes and gave thanks to God. He peered outside and could only wish the season would come to an end entirely. He did not care to see a winter like this ever again. He lay down beside Cameron and continued to pray.

  Chapter Eleven

  Despite many hours of rest and doing nothing over the past three weeks, Cameron struggled with lack of strength. It was true she had not seen many women expecting a baby when she was younger, but hardly thought that absolute weakness was normal. When Dr. Grover visited to examine her, his concerned face told her it was not.

  Andrew had done everything. He cooked and cleaned and took care of an incompetent wife. He ran the church and looked to everyone’s needs but his own.

  And Cameron resented it—every moment.

  This was not how one’s first year of marriage ought to be. What kind of a wife could not fulfill her duties? Duties as simple as cooking and taking care of her husband? Of carrying a baby?

  She looked upon Dr. Grover as he was preparing to leave.

  “When am I going to regain my strength?”

  “I should think you would be better by now.” He spoke the truth, and at least she respected that of him, even if he appeared without much empathy.

  “I sense nothing wrong with your baby, but the fever should not have had this effect on you for so long, we need to wait.”

  She was tired of sitting in bed, tired of staring at the walls. She couldn’t stand to see Andrew come home, weary after a day of traveling to see parishioners, only to prepare supper for her. His smile was always gracious and his tone always polite, but she wondered how long he could stand it as well.

  “I’m sick of waiting!”

  She preferred not to be so testy, especially after Dr. Grover traveled to her home week after week. She picked at the quilt on her lap, already working on the baby’s second blanket. At this rate, her son would have a heap of them by the time he was born.

  He braced to leave, or escape her. “No one thinks ill of you for being bedridden, it happens.”

  She looked up at him hopefully. “It does?”

  “I’ll be by next week. Maybe you’ll feel more like yourself then.”

  He slid his arm slowly through the sleeve of his coat and bid her good-bye. Knowing Andrew would be home soon, she chose to brush out her tangled hair and willed her state of being to be less impatient and less cross.

  *** *** ***

  Before heading home for the day, Andrew paid the lumber mill for his purchases. His plans were finally beginning to unfold. Now they could build an add-on room to the house.

  He mounted the lead horse and Clayton, one of the mill workers, followed with a flatbed wagon of freshly cut wood. With them was Penny Keiser. Andrew thought to surprise Cameron. He figured she could use the girl’s chatter for company. Besides, Penny had pestered him through and through to spend an afternoon with Cameron and today he would take her up on it.

  The repercussions of Cameron’s weakened health were beginning to wear on him. He recalled Cameron’s beaming face when she announced a fluttery feeling their baby presented in her womb. That had been a good day. If only there were more of those.

  When they arrived, he announced his homecoming. “I’ve someone with me to visit you.”

  As Penny went off to his wife’s bedroom he said to Clayton, “Coffee’s still warm. Help yourself.”

  Penny returned immediately, and what she said was barely an audible squeak. “Reverend Andrew…Miss Cameron...blood.” She burst into tears.

  He rushed past her. Cameron was white as the melting snow outside and all around the middle of their bed was a haunting, bright red pool of blood. Her lips were gray and she—unconscious. After being paralyzed with fear, he gripped her frail shoulders. “Cameron! Can you hear me?”

  She moaned, a sign of life at least.

  Clayton had some sense. “I’m going for the doctor.”

  Andrew scooped Cameron away from her blood. “Hurry!”

  He wept. Why had he left her alone? Couldn’t he do anything right? She was his responsibility under God, and he continued to fail time and time again.

  Penny stood frightened, looking in. “Mr. Clayton told me to help.”

  He’d forgotten about her, obviously. He jerked his head towards the sheets on the bed. “Clean sheets. I don’t want her lying on those.”

  Cameron moaned again.

  “I’m here for you. I’m so sorry I left. I shouldn’t have...” He could not lose control. He cradled her like a baby until Clayton returned with Dr. Grover.

  Blessedly, Penny was efficient, and in no time had new sheets on the bed and hot water boiling on the stove. Andrew replaced his bride in the freshness of their bed and kneeled in prayer until the doctor entered.

  After several minutes of Dr. Grover’s administrations, he reported to Andrew. “I’ve been reading up on her symptoms. I’ve also been in contact with a few of my colleagues back East. They are more current in the field. I believe what she has is called anemia.”

  “Anemia?” The diagnosis did not sound good.

  “That is why she’s so weak. That is why her body rejected the baby.”

  Agony vibrated between Andrew’s ears and all he heard was rejected the baby… my baby.

  Dr. Grover continued. “Losing blood has made it worse. I’m going to need to treat her, or we will lose her, too.”

  A numbing sensation overtook him. He was not hearing this. He was not the receiver of these words of death spoken over his wife.

  Jake’s voice cut in. “What do we need to do?”

  Andrew whipped around to see Jake standing in the doorway. With no sense to ask him why he was present, he stood to his full height, waiting for the doctor’s response. Deep down Andrew was glad for Jake’s presence. He didn’t care how Cameron got better—he just wanted her back, whole and healthy.

  Dr. Colvin looked Jake square in the eye. “I need Thomas and I need him now. I must transfuse his blood into her body.”

  Andrew blanched and saw the task was not a welcome one to the doctor, but a necessary one.

  Jake nodded and left.

  Chapter Twelve

  It was the crude looking instrument that caused the men uneasiness, with the exception of Dr. Grover. Andrew looked towards the crease in Thomas’s arm, then looked away from the copper metal tool invading his flesh. Thomas tightly gripped the arm of his chair. The unfamiliar treatment made them all queasy. They were as gray as Cameron. Dr. Grover’s hands were steady as he slowly pulled back what could only be called the trigger on this tube, draining blood out of Thomas. They all stared at the process in curious awe, and when the doctor slowly pulled the long, ugly needle from Thomas’s arm, they cringed as one.

  Dr. Grover walked with care towards Cameron, needle upright. He wiped the blood oozing from the sharp point with a cloth and gently pulled Cameron’s limp arm into position to receive her deposit of blood. The only sound heard was Andrew’s soft prayers as he knelt at his wife’s bedside, out of the doctor’s way. The foreign process was repeated not once, but two more times. No one dared utter the unaske
d question—will she be all right?

  Thomas looked almost as pale as his sister did. The doctor was stern when he tried to rise from the chair. “Sit down, Thomas!” he said tersely. “Jake, get him something to eat or drink.” He then spoke to Thomas in a calmer tone. “I don’t have the energy to be working on you should you have a spell and fall. You’re going to be weak a short while.”

  The doctor’s intolerant tone snapped Andrew out of his reverie of prayers and he took note of the fatigue in his eyes. “Dr. Grover, please sit at the table and rest, eat, whatever you need to do. I don’t have words enough to say thank you, but I am very grateful to you.”

  “I know you are.” The doctor stopped on his way out of the bedroom, filled with uncertainty and much hope, and looked at Thomas. “You are a good person, young man, despite what you think of yourself or what anyone else says of you. If she lives, it’s because of you and the good Lord above.”

  Penny entered and proceeded to scoop up the soiled blankets, earlier left out of view and still in the corner of the room.

  Andrew said firmly, “No!”

  The unexpected act of his brashness startled her to tears. His stare was lost within the sheets. Somewhere in them was his baby, his son or his daughter. He could not let go. This was not real. It would not sink in—ever.

  “I’m...I’m sorry,” she stammered and backed away.

  Andrew had never spoken so to anyone before.

  Thomas opened his eyes lazily. “Just leave that be a little while longer, all right?”

  Obediently, Penny nodded.

  *** *** ***

  Cameron awoke to Andrew’s fingertips lightly stroking her cheek. She lay there awhile, relishing his touch. Suddenly, her hands clutched her abdomen and her eyes flew wide open. She focused on him. “Our baby?”

 

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